


Grant's Hero

by Tarlan



Category: Murphy Brown (TV), Traders (TV 1995)
Genre: Drama, Hewligan, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-13
Updated: 2006-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unsure what to do with his life upon leaving the Israeli military, Scott returns to the museum in Washington. There he meets Grant Jansky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grant's Hero

Scott looked around the near-empty room at the museum exhibitions. This late in the day, most of the kids were already gone, dragged off to some fast-food chain for dinner before the long journey home. He smiled softly when he realized how little had changed since he was last here. For some reason, he thought everything would be different now but he supposed that kids still needed to learn the basics of aerodynamics before they could move on to the complex theories governing flight. The only major difference was the addition of two computer terminals running simulations, with one particular station dedicated to a program that allowed the kids to explore a few different wing designs in 3-D while the other showed lines of code. A man, whom Scott assumed was one of the dads, was eagerly showing a fair-haired kid how to use the simulation program and Scott smiled at the obvious delight brightening the boy's face he watched his first design fly, if a little shakily.

In some ways Scott did not see a computer program as much of an improvement as nothing could surpass the ability to hold an actual model in your hand and feel the wind running across the shaped surfaces. He smiled as he recalled the paper models of a plane's wing that he used to make for the kids to demonstrate the basic principles. He would keep his eye on the child while blowing across the surface, catching their amazement as the wing lifted, and then he would hand over the simple model and watch them walk away completely engrossed in their new discovery.

Almost five years had past since then, with most of those years spent in the Israeli Air Force putting his then newly acquired doctorate in Physics to good use. He had wanted to be a pilot, like any other new recruit to the IAF, but he'd understood right from the start that it wouldn't happen. Most potential pilots were chosen as teenagers and spent the next three years being trained. Even then, only ten percent of them ever earned their wings. Scott had managed to put off his conscription until he finished his post-graduate studies at the age of 29, far too late to enter the flight program but educated enough in the right subject to work on the technical and maintenance crews. At least it was something to put on his CV now that he was free to pursue a non-military career. Except he had no clue what he wanted to do. He had sent his CV on to some of the big aircraft manufacturers like Boeing and McDonnell-Douglas, hoping they might have an opening that would interest him. With nothing to do while he waited for a response, the pull of the past had brought him back to the museum where he'd had so much fun, and where he had met Murphy Brown.

She was dead now, the cancer had stayed in remission for several years but, eventually, it had caught up with her again, and this time she had succumbed to it. But her loss had not soured his memories of this place. Instead, he recalled the good times they had spent together; the laughter, the fun, and the loving. He grinned softly as a sense of nostalgia filled him along with a certainty that this museum would always be special to him.

As he began to turn away, the fair-haired boy monopolizing that particular computer with the airflow simulation was called away by an impatient mother but the man did not follow immediately. Instead he sat down and finished compiling the code on the second computer before making a copy. He closed down the second computer and walked over to the desk where Scott used to work, pulling out a cellphone and wandering from the room, too engrossed in making a call to notice Scott. With no one else eager to take the boy's place in front of the simulation, Scott took advantage of the moment and slipped into the still-warm seat. From a distance, the simulation had seemed fairly simplistic but, close up, Scott was amazed by the attention to detail despite the simplicity of the interface. He manipulated the selection criteria into unrealistic figures and watched as the eddies created by the wind over his flawed design caused the plane to take a nose dive, accompanied by the muted noise he had dreaded to hear for most of his military career, that high-pitched shriek of tearing metal as the plane plummeted towards the earth.

Scott chortled at the small dark cloud that rose from the crash site and the little white flag that waved in surrender above it, detailing where he had gone wrong and offering to let him try again. By rights, he should not have found it funny but it appealed to the little kid inside him. Returning to the input screen, he put in a different set of values and watched the eerily accurate simulation of airflow over the wing. His eyebrows rose. Whoever had written this program certainly knew what he or she was doing, although the misalignment in the layout on the opening menu and several other screens left something to be desired. He tried another set of values, one very familiar to him after spending the past years in the Israeli Air Force, inputting them onto the screen in the relevant spaces, and was amazed at the continued accuracy.

"F-15E Strike Eagle."

Scott jumped at the soft voice and the warm breath close to his ear, hearing the snap of teeth as his shoulder caught the man under the chin. With his heart racing, Scott turned to face the stranger who had crept right into his personal space while he was distracted, caught instantly by wide, startled blue eyes. The man held his jaw tightly, lips trembling fearfully as he stepped back.

"Hey. I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come up behind me. You made me jump."

Some of the fear left the man's face as Scott tried the kind of reassuring smile he had used on the kids when he used to work here, to encourage them to come forward and ask their questions, and he was grateful to see the trembling lessen. When he widened his smile a little more, Scott was rewarded with a nervous flash of teeth as more of the wariness faded from the man's eyes.

"Grant Jansky," the man stated and Scott glanced back at the simulation, recalling the software designer's name written in small type near the bottom of the 'crash' screen.

"Yeah." Scott nodded and his smile widened but it faltered when he saw confusion in the blue eyes, only then noticing the man's hand that had left his bearded chin and was held out awkwardly towards him. "*You're* Grant Jansky." Scott tried to keep it a statement rather than a question and gained his answer as the confusion was replaced by a wide grin.

Scott took the hand and shook it carefully, seeing renewed pleasure in the man's sparkling blue eyes. The grin faded to a crooked smile that made Scott's stomach flip in a way he'd not felt since his first crush on Manny Brook in high school.

"You fly them?" Grant asked, pointing back to the screen.

Scott snorted softly. "Nah, been up in one though. Neat experience. You?"

Grant shook his head, looking a little disturbed at the very thought of flying in a fast jet plane, which seemed strange considering the knowledge it must have taken to write a simulation program this advanced. Scott knew of a few aircraft manufacturers that would love to get their hands on this software and, more importantly, the designer. Before he could ask Grant anything more specific about it, another man came up, eyes darting between Scott, Grant and the program. Scott recognized him as the man who had been helping the fair-haired boy and writing program code earlier.

"Hey Grant. You're back." He gave a brittle laugh. "Thought you were going to check out the dinosaur display?"

"Eddie!" Grant hugged the man affectionately, face lifted for a kiss that never happened for Eddie seemed more than a little uncomfortable within the embrace. He pulled away from Grant quickly before looking back to the screen where the simulation program ran on in default mode leaving Grant looking lost and bewildered.

'Eddie' looked edgy, shooting hard looks at Scott that mellowed into feigned friendship when directed back at Jansky, and Scott knew instantly what this man was doing. He had recognized the financial worth of this program too and, only then did Scott register the anomaly that had bugged him earlier. The misalignment could have been caused by something taken out of the code, and then he realized Jansky's name was missing from all but the 'crash' screen.

Scott shot the man a hard glance, eyes narrowing as he recognized the intellectual theft occurring right before his eyes as Eddie took advantage of Grant Jansky. Just from this short acquaintance, he could tell that Jansky was one of those idiot savant types, probably a high functioning autistic with a special gift for... What exactly? Aeronautics, Math, computing?

Looking into the bright, gentle eyes of Grant Jansky, Scott knew he could not simply walk away and let Eddie steal all his hard work and the financial rewards and contracts that would come with it.

"So, Eddie? This is a great simulation. You a co-developer on this?"

Eddie wrapped an arm around Jansky's shoulders, pulling him in tight against his side and used the other hand to ruffle Jansky's baby-fine hair with faux affection. "Sure am. Aren't I, Grant?"

Despite the earlier, exuberant hug, Jansky looked even more confused and he tensed within Eddie's manly embrace, not quite able to interpret the social clue Eddie was forcing upon him by the feigned closeness after being rebuffed moments earlier. Eddie tried a different approach, "Grant and I go way back. We figured this out together, talked about it over the 'net."

Jansky was still a little confused but there must have been a grain of truth in his words as he seemed to relax slightly, nodding slowly as if he had yet quite convinced himself.

"It's a great program and I bet a few... organizations might be interested in both the designer and the software. Though some of the screens are a little... well, misaligned."

Jansky pulled away instantly from Eddie, eyes darting to the computer. He leaned in and started typing away at a speed that amazed Scott, pausing to stare at various screens as they loaded, including a small pop-up window holding version control information, most likely encrypted inside the program. The pop-up window disappeared almost as quickly as it loaded.

"You changed the code... and my name's missing," Grant stated with obvious confusion layering his voice.

"Oh. Didn't I mention we're not allowed to advertise our names? That's why I needed time to check out the program first." His eyes were shifting, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed a little too nervously.

"Wouldn't it have been easier to let Grant make those changes?" Gotcha! Scott thought maliciously as Eddie's nervousness vanished beneath a cold and furious expression.

"Don't listen to him, Grant. He's trying to drive a wedge between us. He wants your application, probably to sell to the military to help them build better planes to bomb and murder people."

Grant looked aghast, soft mouth turning downward even further in dismay as he stared at Scott, as if Scott was the betrayer rather than the nasty piece of dirt still holding a proprietary hand on Grant's shoulder. Scott knew from his dealings with children that, once they trusted someone, it was hard to dissuade them otherwise. Except Grant was not a child despite his apparent naiveté, for his forehead scrunched up, his eyes turning to Eddie with dawning suspicion.

"Donald said it's you he didn't trust. Said you didn't want my program for the kids, that you wanted to make money out of it."

Scott had no idea who this Donald might be but he was grateful that, whoever he was, he cared enough about Grant to try to warn him about this shady Eddie character. He only wondered why this Donald was not here right now, protecting his friend's interest. Eddie barked out a derisory laugh.

"Donald's just being paranoid. You're my friend, Grant." His voice lowered suggestively. "More than a friend." He ran a hand down Grant's back suggestively from one broad shoulder to the sweet curve of his ass, making it very clear exactly what kind of friendship they had. "So would I do that to you?" He leaned in to kiss Grant but, this time, it was Grant who tilted his face away.

"The simulation programs for the dinosaurs have the designers' names on them," Grant stated softly and Scott saw Eddie's lips twitch, knowing he had been caught in a lie.

Any pretense at friendship faded from Eddie's face leaving hard brown eyes mocking Grant. He pushed back from Grant, brushed past Scott and placed a disk into the drive. Scott frowned as an installation ran, understanding as soon as the aerodynamic simulation program restarted but with slightly different colors and with the layout corrected. However, the major difference was that a new name had appeared at the bottom where Grant Jansky's should have been: Edward B. Manston. Scott raised both eyebrows as Eddie stood up, crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at Grant.

"*Your* program, Jansky? Prove it."

Scott stood up too, and he pinned Eddie with a menacing look, advancing on him slowly as Eddie started to back away, only to freeze when a museum security guard came forward, having spotted the impending altercation. Scott pointed at the guard. "You, get the museum director down here. Right now."

The guard straightened and Scott could tell he was ex-military by the way he had reacted to Scott's commanding voice but then he hesitated, having no reason to obey Scott's order. However, the guard narrowed his eyes a little towards Eddie, giving a clear sign that he neither liked nor trusted the man and, after what had just happened, Scott felt a lot of respect for the guard's gut instinct. He watched as the guard talked into his radio too softly for Scott to pick up the words, and then turn to close the door so the few remaining members of the public could not enter the display room. When Scott glanced across to check Eddie's reaction he saw a mocking twitch of eyebrows but no other reaction. It seemed obvious that Eddie felt pretty confident that he would get away with the theft of Grant's program and had probably spent most of the day preparing for this.

Scott was not surprised when Grant started to edge towards him as the silence lengthened uncomfortably, seeing his blue eyes wide with alarm, confusion and the first hint of betrayal as he stole occasional glances at his former friend and lover. The naked vulnerability tugged at his heart and he held out a hand, beckoning Grant closer still. Grant accepted the reassurance with some alacrity, slipping in behind him like a frightened child and peering over Scott's shoulder. His warm body pressed against Scott's back and, had this been a strobing gay club rather than a museum in broad daylight, then having a stranger plastered so intimately to his back, rocking back and forth, would have been a far more pleasurable sensation. As it was, Scott was hard pressed to control his errant thoughts as his body started to react to the strong fingers gripping the waistband of his pants and the beard-roughened cheek pressed against his clean-shaved one. Grant's male scent caught at Scott's senses, adding to the stimuli, and he could only be grateful that he was wearing concealing baggy cargo pants rather than revealing tight denim today as he felt Grant's softened cock against his ass. Pads of fingers slipped beneath his t-shirt, hot against his flesh, and sending delicious sensations through Scott, reminding him of how long it had been since he had felt another man's hands upon him. He could feel the slight hitching breath warm against his face, could feel the erratic rise and fall of Grant's chest against his back and the occasional soft whimper.

A primal part of Scott wanted to rock back against Grant's cock and feel it harden against him. Only the knowledge that Eddie had taken advantage of Grant's innocence to steal from him, possibly using sex to convince Grant that he could be trusted, pulled Scott back from moving. The very thought of betraying the man's trust acting like a cold shower.

The door opened and a man who was perhaps only a decade older than Scott, though with a far receded hairline, stepped inside; he closed the door behind him to retain some privacy. The new arrival wore attire similar to the majority of dads visiting the museum with their children rather than a suit, probably so he could wander around the exhibitions and gauge the reaction from the visitors. Scott's lips twitched in recognition. Geoffrey Lancer had been the assistant director five years ago, and a fun companion as they worked out ways to get the kids interested in science. The slight widening of his eyes and the ghost of a smile proved he recalled Scott too but Scott sent a warning look his way that prevented any overt display of familiarity. Geoff seemed to take the hint.

"What's going on here, Mr. Manston?" he asked.

Eddie Manston leaped in eagerly with an explanation but Scott had planned it that way. He wanted to see how Eddie was going to play this particularly nasty game.

"Mr. Lancer, during my own time, I designed a simulation to display the aerodynamics of an aircraft, divulging my idea to an associate over the internet." He straightened up. "And now that associate, Mr. Jansky, is claiming to be the true designer of the software." He pointed to the screen, drawing Geoff towards him. "But, as you can see, it has my name and not Mr. Jansky's, hard-coded into it."

Geoff looked closer and then stood back up. "Hmm. Well, from what I can see..."

"He took my code and changed it..." Grant exclaimed.

"Hardly!" Manston declared. "You took my code and changed it to your name. All I did was take it back."

Geoff looked between Manston and Grant, who was still using Scott as a shield, his face revealing nothing but Scott could understand Geoff's dilemma because it all came down to Grant's word against Manston's. If Scott had not seen the hard, avaricious look in Manston's eyes, seen the previous version of the code, or heard his words to Grant, then he might have been hard pressed to side with Grant over this. After all, it was Manston's name on every screen now. Instead, Scott recalled the way Grant knew the specs of an F-15E off the top of his head and the easy way he manipulated the program with a dexterity born out of complete familiarity.

"I'm sure Mr. Jansky will have earlier prototypes on his computer at home that will..." Scott's words were interrupted by Manston.

"Of course he will. He downloaded them from me," Manston spat out, going for the 'injured party' trick, and proving that he believed he had an answer to any question thrown at him.

Scott had a thought. "So this version is your untouched copy of the software, a version Mr. Jansky has never had the opportunity to see or tamper with?"

"Yes. Fortunately I'd been working on an improved version that I had not foolishly sent to him." He turned his beady eyes towards Geoff. "I'd be more than happy to compare Mr. Jansky's flawed version against my own just to prove my case, Mr. Lancer."

Scott felt Grant surge against him in annoyance and he reached back to squeeze Grant, hoping Grant would understand and let Scott handle this. Scott raised an eyebrow at Manston and decided to take a gamble that Manston had not had time to remove every reference to Grant Jansky. "Then perhaps you can pull up the version control for your program."

A flicker of unease crossed Manston's face. "This program doesn't have one."

"Then allow me." Scott moved Manston aside and called up from his memory the vision of Grant's agile fingers dancing over the keyboard. Manston straightened in shock when a small window opened detailing the program with all its version changes and the authorship of those changes. Except for the final two versions where Manston had been tampering with the code, the name of the designer was Grant Jansky.

Geoff leaned in and read carefully before standing up and stiffly turning towards Manston, no doubt recalling Manston's insistence that Grant had been nowhere near this version. "Perhaps you would care to explain this then, Mr. Manston?"

Manston opened his mouth several times but no words came out so Scott stepped forward. "Perhaps I could explain." He indicated towards the man still clinging to his arm. "Mr. Jansky has developed a program for the kids to use here in the museum but Manston saw the commercial possibilities in offering it to a company such as McDonnell-Douglas. They'd pay a fortune to have this software... and the designer." He paused for effect "So he decided to steal it."

Geoff stared back down at the computer and then at Grant, his eyes softening a fraction, just as he had always done when dealing with children and the more vulnerable adults that came to the museum.

"For the kids?" It seemed like a non-sequitur but Scott could see that Geoff had latched onto the fact that this amazing program had been given freely for educational use.

Grant seemed to lose his fear and stepped around Scott, though he remained firmly tucked against Scott's leaner frame, grinning widely. "They can put in values or even drag the pictures to different shapes," his hands waved in the air as if trying to illustrate his words, "and then they'll see the pattern of the air flow over the wing." He laughed breathily. "I like patterns. Patterns tell you everything about the..."

Scott wrapped an arm around Grant's broad back and squeezed his shoulder, drawing his attention away before he went off on a tangent. Geoff's specialism might not have been aeronautics but he understood the principles and he understood the desire to share all he knew with the next generation of wide-eyed kids who came to visit the museum; he turned to the guard.

"Roberts. Perhaps you could escort Mr. Manston off the premises. Oh, and please ensure his computer is disconnected from the network and that Mr. Manston does not leave with any museum property, or any property belonging to Mr. Jansky." His eyes flicked towards the computer, making sure Roberts would remove any disks from Eddie's possession.

"Yes, Mr. Lancer." Roberts looked extremely satisfied as he tilted his head towards a disbelieving Eddie Manston.

Scott turned a triumphant look towards Grant as Roberts marched Manston away. He found blue eyes staring back at him, wide with awe and delight, and making Scott feel like a modern-day hero who had bested the 'black knight' in mortal combat. He grinned at his own silliness. Perhaps rescuing Grant from Manston had not been a life or death issue but, judging by the sudden lunge and the hard embrace that followed, it had meant a lot to Grant.

The feel of Grant in his arms sent a fresh wave of desire through Scott and he never wanted to end the hug, wishing he could revel in the closeness of Grant's body pressed against his for just a little longer. However, Geoff cleared his throat noisily, reminding Scott that he and Grant were not alone, and giving Scott the strength he needed to pat Grant's back reassuringly and pull away. Holding out a hand, Geoff's smile broadened to a grin as Scott reached back.

"Scott. It's good to see you again. Please say you've come back for your old job, especially now I've just fired the man who was occupying it?"

"As much as I liked working with the kids, I'd have to say no. Not enough money in it. Just had some good memories tugging me back here while I was in town."

"Shame." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Though if you're looking for more money then we could use an assistant director of your caliber." Geoff waited as Scott let that sink in before he turned to Grant. "And you, Mr. Jansky. Perhaps you - and Scott - can tell me all about your amazing program."

Scott smiled inwardly at Geoff's attempt to get him to stick around a little longer, perhaps hoping he might convince him to stay permanently because Geoff was never one to make offers lightly. However, Scott felt he had no right to get involved in Grant's program even if he had just saved him from losing it to that slimeball Manston. When he turned to make light of Geoff's words, Grant was staring at him wide-eyed with expectation, not seeming to mind Scott's inclusion. If anything, he sent puppy-dog eyes that seemed to beg Scott to say yes.

"Sure," Scott responded for both of them. Grant's smile was infectious as he hugged Scott again, making Scott laugh with sheer pleasure.

***

One other thing had not changed either and that was Geoff Lancer. He was still the same person Scott recalled from the past in spite of his promotion to museum director. He had the same infectious joy, loving his work at the museum and treating everyone with respect. He had always been good with the kids too, eager to help them by trying to explain many of the mysteries of the world surrounding them and so patient too. He remained quiet and supportive as Scott explained to both him and Grant how much this program could be worth to the right people.

"It could be worth ten, maybe twenty thousand... or more. Don't know what the going rate is for software, though I suspect they'd be even more interested in the designer," Scott stated carefully, wanting to ensure Grant understood but Grant seemed a little indifferent to his words.

"I don't need money." He gave that little breathy laugh that tugged at Scott's heart. "And I already have a job in Toronto." His face fell slightly at that, making Scott wonder if the job in Toronto was not quite as enjoyable as Grant would like.

Geoff glanced to Scott meaningfully, knowing they were both on the same wavelength. They were worried Grant did not fully understand the concept of money but as Geoff opened his mouth to try and explain again, Grant started to look agitated. Scott reached out and squeezed his leg in reassurance and almost regretted his action when he felt the strong thigh muscle beneath his hand. Grant smiled and relaxed a little.

"I'm... I want the kids to have the program. I wrote it for them and... And Eddie said the kids would love it." He looked earnest.

"And they do," Scott added quickly, remembering the joyous look on the fair-haired boy's face. Grant smiled shyly, pleased with Scott's words, but then his mouth drooped at one side again.

"I understand what you're saying about... about it being worth money. Donald said the same thing, so this is just a small version I designed specifically for you." He looked at Geoff and gave another tiny smile. "I already told McDonnell-Douglas that they could have the whole program but they had to share this part with the museum, and they said yes so I signed lots of paper, and I told them I didn't want to work for them."

The wariness eased a little in Geoff's eyes as they realized how they had both misjudged Grant's ability to look after his own interests, and Scott smiled inwardly to himself. Until now, he thought he had been Grant's hero by stepping in to protect him from Manston but it looked as though this Donald had already been looking out for his friend. If Manston had taken the program and tried to sell it to McDonnell-Douglas or another company, then he would have been arrested for theft of intellectual property - McDonnell-Douglas's intellectual property.

"Well, if you won't accept any money then can I at least offer you a full lifetime membership to the museum?"

Grant's eyes widened in awe, as if Geoff had offered him millions of dollars, but then his face crumpled. "Will I still get the free dinosaur tippy cup if I come here another three times?"

"You know what? I think you can have one now."

Geoff reached into the cupboard set behind him and took one out from a small supply he probably had on hand to placate small children who came to his office, both of them smiling at Grant's apparent joy when Geoff handed the cup over to him. He took down Grant's details and then walked them both to the front of the museum, which had closed while they were talking. After shaking hands with Grant, Geoff turned to Scott.

"If you should change your mind about the assistant director post?" He let the words hang as he shook hands with Scott one last time before walking back inside, leaving Scott and Grant together at the top of a massive flight of steps leading into the street far below. Scott smiled as Grant examined his tippy cup with a child's fascination.

He knew he ought to walk away now but something about Grant called to him. He wanted to spend more time with him, perhaps get to know him on a more intimate level, recalling the way Manston had made it fairly obvious that he and Grant had been lovers, if only for one night.

Scott wanted Grant to be interested in men, he wanted him to be interested in *him*. He could still recall the warmth of Grant's body pressed up against his back and the amazing soul-deep beauty that shone from those azure-blue eyes. His cheek still tingled with the remembered feel of Grant's beard-roughened cheek against it. He had seen the small hurt when Manston drew back from Grant's intended kiss and he wanted to wipe away that memory with his own kisses. Only the fear of taking advantage of Grant stopped him from cupping Grant's face in his hands right now and taking his lips in a first heady kiss of need and desire, even though he was fairly certain that Grant was not as naive as he seemed.

"So... Where are you staying?"

Grant's happy smile faded to horror. "With Eddie."

"Oh. That's gonna be a problem." He took a deep breath and made an offer that he hoped Grant would accept. "Guess your stuff's there, so if you want me to come with you to..."

Grant shook his head and patted the small backpack that he had been clutching tightly since leaving the museum, having picked it up from the cloakroom on the way out. "All here."

"Oh, great! So you just need a place to stay then."

He looked more closely at the scruffy genius, seeing the threadbare cuffs of his well-worn jacket and his scuffed shoes, uncertain if Grant had enough money to even buy a hot meal let alone rent a hotel room for the night. Scott licked his lips, knowing he could not leave the vulnerable man walking the streets of Washington alone but not wanting to take advantage of his awkward position either.

"Guess we could sneak you into my hotel room for the night and see about getting you a better place to stay tomorrow."

Grant seemed to like the idea, nodding excitedly and Scott couldn't help feeling glad that he would not be spending his first day back in Washington all alone. He glanced back at the museum as they walked away, side-by-side, now even more positive that the museum would always remain a special place to him.

***

All the internal plans he had made for sneaking Grant into his hotel room turned out to be a waste of time when Grant walked straight up to the reception desk and asked them to upgrade Scott's room from a single. When the receptionist glanced across at him, Scott shrugged his agreement and came closer.

"Work colleague just arrived in town," he stated softly, hoping she would buy the explanation.

The receptionist glanced over Grant as he pointed at a particular room he wanted, eyeing his scruffy clothing before requesting payment in advance. Both her eyes and Scott's widened when she was presented with a credit card that was only issued to those with extensive personal wealth, someone exceedingly rich. Not surprisingly, her attitude towards Grant changed immediately to one of the utmost respect and courtesy. She looked across to Scott.

"I'll see that your belongings are moved to your new room, Mr. Hamon. Perhaps if you and Mr. Jansky would care to wait in the main lobby while your room is being prepared."

"Thank you."

She gained the attention of one of the hotel staff and he led them to a small alcove and brought them complimentary drinks.

"She's nice," Grant stated softly, looking back at the pretty, blond receptionist and Scott couldn't help but feel cynical that _money_ had that affect on a lot of people. He recalled Grant saying that he didn't need any money and now he understood why. The man probably had more than enough money already judging by that card.

"So, what exactly do you do in Toronto?"

"Derivatives."

The answer confused Scott for a moment and then it made sense. Grant was a trader, and if he displayed the same skill on the trading floor that he had shown in his simulation program then he was exceptionally talented, and wealthy because of it.

Scott waited until they were in the new suite, noting how much more luxurious it was compared to the single room he had dropped his few belongings into before heading out to the museum. The suite had a separate lounge that boasted flowers, a complimentary fruit bowl and a magnum of Champagne on ice with two glasses standing ready. Scott grabbed a handful of grapes and headed towards what he suspected was the bedroom, expecting a double room and his eyebrows crawled into his hairline when he noticed there was only one very big bed. He turned and found Grant studying him carefully, with big, hope-filled eyes. Grant swallowed nervously and stepped right into Scott's personal space once more, reaching up to cup his chin and placing an awkward yet chaste kiss upon Scott's lips, bumping their noses.

Scott licked his lips when Grant drew back, tasting the other man upon them, his mouth tingling with pleasure at the brief contact, cock already hardening from the brief press of lips.

"Well that was... unexpected."

The hope seemed to die in Grant's eyes and Scott rushed to reassure him. "I didn't say unwelcome... just unexpected."

He saw hope rekindle as a shy smile flickered about Grant's lips, straightening the crooked mouth. Any concerns of abusing Grant's trust faded and, this time, Scott reached for Grant, drawing him into a gentle kiss that grew in intensity as they melted into one another. He felt agile fingers turn clumsy as they tried to work the button and zipper on Scott's pants while the other hand smoothed beneath his t-shirt to flitter across Scott's back. He shivered against the feel of those fingers, wanting more than the ghost touch of those fingers. Scott moaned into the mouth that opened beneath his, tongue gliding in to twist and suck and taste, losing himself in the unique taste of this man as Grant kissed him back with renewed enthusiasm.

Scott pulled back, breathless from a kiss that sent even his toes curling in pleasure, eyes closing in a shock of desire as Grant latched onto his throat, nibbling and sucking and biting. He knew he would be marked but that only increased the excitement as he imagined possessing Grant in turn. His hands shook as he stepped back a pace, gripped the hemline of his t-shirt and drew it over his head. Grant watched, mesmerized by each piece of clothing that fell to the floor until Scott stood before him, naked and aching with need.

"I'm not... I've not... Lights..."

Scott was uncertain what Grant was trying to say at first until he saw the fear and wonder and shyness battling in his so-expressive eyes. He reached out and cupped Grant's face in the palm of his hand, drawing him back in for another kiss as his other hand deftly began to strip the clothes from Grant's body. Dropping his hand to let Grant control the kiss, he gave reassuring touches and gentle caresses to revealed flesh, sliding hands over muscle and bone, over the lightly furred chest and across a tightening nipple before teasing at the waistband of Grant's opened pants. His hands slid downwards, dragging the material with them until gravity took over and it cascaded to the floor at Grant's feet. Scott encouraged him to kick off his shoes and step out of the pooled material while his hands retraced a path up and down the gentle swell of Grant's perfect ass. Cupping each cheek, Scott pulled Grant in closer, pressing the full length of their bodies together from knee to chest, hard cocks bumping against each other with each indrawn breath, the sensitive head, slick with precome, sliding with tantalizing friction against the slight curve of Grant's belly.

"Beautiful," Scott murmured against Grant's lips before plunging inside his mouth again, stealing any response with his wicked tongue.

They rocked slowly in a strong, smooth rhythm that sent promises of ecstasy rippling through Scott, igniting nerve endings and burning through his blood. He knew they were both close but Scott wanted more than this. He wanted to see Grant in the throes of ecstasy, wanted to be buried balls-deep inside him when fell over the edge, wanted to see himself reflecting back in Grant's eyes as they glazed over.

Making soothing noises, he stepped back and stared at his lover, smiling at the blush that heightened the color of Grant's cheeks and the way his eyes darted aside nervously.

"No need to be shy. So beautiful," he whispered again, waiting until Grant's eyes rose to meet his and seeing the worry fade, replaced by a shy smile that lit his face and brought the sparkle back to his desire-darkened eyes.

Gently, he encouraged Grant onto his back on the wide bed, only then realizing he had nothing to ease his passage into Grant's body. Expecting to find nothing useful, he pulled out the drawer of the bedside table and smirked when he found lotion and condoms, suddenly understanding what the receptionist meant by preparing the room. Scott doubted they performed this service for anything less than these expensive suites.

Grant writhed and moaned as Scott prepared him, wantonly fucking himself on Scott's fingers and mewling in protest when Scott pulled away. He positioned his cock at the loosened entrance, eyes holding Grant's fast.

"Have you ever..?"

Grant nodded, arching up to press harder against the blunt head poised at the entrance to his body, his invitation clear. Scott held his gaze as he pushed inside, watching Grant's sinfully long eyelashes flutter, and his mouth fall open as he gasped in pleasurable pain. The incredible sight sent shivers through Scott and he looked down between them to watch the last few inches sink inside the heated furnace of Grant's body.

If he could freeze one moment of his life, Scott knew he would choose these few seconds as he looked into Grant's eyes and saw the adoration shining back up at him. Instead, the moment passed as his body succumbed to the need to move, his senses overloading as Grant tightened and loosened around him as Scott rocked into and out of the tight sheath of flesh, hearing Grant's whimpering cries as he brushed his prostate with each forward thrust. Scott wrapped his hand around Grant's hard flesh, the slide of his fingers mirroring the thrusts into his body until scalding heat flooded over his busy fingers, splattering between them across chest and belly. Grant's fall into ecstasy triggered his own and he gasped out his own release as he stared deep into Grant's dazed eyes.

Grant was a snuggler, his body warm and heavy against Scott's side, and with one arm thrown across Scott's body possessively. He snuffled against Scott's neck and shoulder, lips curled into a contented smile. They were clean and warm in the comfortable bed, with the washcloth and towel returned to the bathroom and the used condom flushed down the toilet and Scott never wanted to leave.

As he listened to Grant's quiet, even breaths, he began to consider various new plans for the future, but every single one of them seemed nothing without Grant.

***

Years later, when he looked back on that day, Scott could never quite explain how he came to become the assistant director at the museum, nor how he came to have Grant permanently in his life, and in his bed. Too many variables had rendered the equation far too complex to explain in simplistic terms. Instead, all he could recall was the pleasure of being Grant's hero on that first day, and of the love that had shined for him in those deep blue, innocent eyes ever since.

Perhaps the child in Scott had reached out to the more obvious child in Grant, or perhaps they had simply both needed someone to love. All Scott knew for certain was that Grant had felt increasingly alone in a cruel world having lost not one but two people who were extremely important to him in close succession; first Anne and then Jack. Disenchanted with his life, and not really needing to work for money, Grant had readily accepted Manston's job at the museum, finding immense joy in showing the kids and adults how things worked, as well as taking over control of the museum's computers.

Scott sighed in contentment as they fell in a tangle of naked limbs on their bed after a day at the museum.

The first time they kissed, Scott knew it was meant to be because no one had ever kissed him so deeply and so warmly that it made his toes curl. Years later, those kisses still had the same effect on Scott, short circuiting Scott's brain and melting his bones.

As if to prove it, Grant kissed him again, slow and easy, deep and wantonly, his tongue coiling around Scott's, teasing and tasting with a confidence gained from long familiarity. His beard was alternately rough as he rubbed in one direction and soft as velvet in the other, the dual sensations adding to the tactile pleasure as Grant sucked on Scott's tongue. A soft moan reverberated between them, seeming to travel down the length of Scott's body, filling him with incredible warmth as those blunt yet agile fingers ghosted over his naked flesh.

Scott moaned as the pleasure expanded through his entire body, overloading into the sweetest climax as he swallowed every gasp Grant made in response. Afterwards, once they were clean and comfortable, he tucked Grant up close against his body, just as he always did, and held him safe and secure in his arms as they drifted off to sleep.

Early tomorrow they would go to the park and sit on the bench, feeding the birds and squirrels until it was time to go to work. Grant loved feeding the animals in the park, he loved his work, and every day he told Scott how much he loved him too. His hero. And that was fortunate because Scott loved Grant and he loved seeing Grant happy. He loved the museum too. It was a special place full of special people like Murphy, Geoff and Grant - especially Grant - and for as long as he was Grant's hero, Scott knew it always would be.

THE END


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